


Advice

by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab
Summary: Maul pulls Qi'ra aside to give her some...advice.





	Advice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rissanox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rissanox/gifts).



Dryden is having a party on his yacht. But then, when is he not?

Maul looks interminably bored. He’s not a diplomat, not a schmoozer. He doesn’t have to be. As the head of Crimson Dawn, most of the galaxy’s goings-on are beneath his notice. That’s why he has so many underlings, so many minions to do his bidding.

Dryden is one such underling. You’d never know it from the way he normally presents himself, all smooth looks and courteous speech just before he slits your throat, but around Maul he becomes terse and on edge. His collection of weapons are useless against the Zabrak, who is skilled in all of them but doesn’t need any to crush Dryden’s throat if the occasion calls for it. No one is more aware of this than Dryden.

While the singer Dryden’s booked for the evening belts about lost love, Maul slithers like a wraith to Dryden. The near-human straightens up even more than before, his tension palpable to Qi’ra beside him. She schools her expression into polite interest as their boss approaches them.

“I will speak with Qi’ra. Privately.”

Dryden looks between the two. Qi’ra looks puzzled, but at a nod from Dryden, she leads Maul to one of the private rooms. He closes the door with a wave of his hand, not taking his gaze from Qi’ra.

“You hide your emotions well,” he says, surprising her. “But you cannot conceal them from me.”

Qi’ra’s face pales beneath the carefully-applied makeup. “What—“

Maul strides across the room. Qi’ra backs up until she hits the wall, and still Maul advances. He doesn’t stop—even when he kisses her, it feels like he’s still pushing forward. Qi’ra melts into him, craning her neck to meet his lips. He wraps her hair around his fingers, tugging her head back so that he can scrape his sharpened teeth down her throat. Qi’ra moans, her knees weak against his ministrations.

“Dryden misuses you,” he growls. “You’re so much cleverer than he realizes. Someday his temper will kill him, and then you’ll step into his place.”

The breath leaves Qi’ra’s lungs. “What,” she starts to ask again, but Maul kisses her. “Turn around,” he hisses.

She obeys, moaning when his hands trace the outline of her body through the elegant dress Dryden bought for her. He squeezes her breasts and her ass before hiking up her dress. Qi’ra, hands braced against the wall, shudders as the cool air in the room hits her bared legs. Maul strokes her, but he hardly needs to—she’s been rubbing her legs together all night, eyes on him.

“You’ve never been this wet for another man,” he whispers in her ear, correctly reading her thoughts. “Only for me.”

“Yes,” she gasps, shuddering again. “Please, I—“

“Never beg, Qi’ra,” he says in a cold, fierce voice. “You aren’t beholden to Lady Proxima anymore. You are a part of Crimson Dawn, and Crimson Dawn begs for nothing.”

“Yes.”

“If you want something, demand it.”

She twists her head over her shoulder to look at him. “Fuck me.”

He does, his hands digging into her hips so hard that they’ll leave bruises. Qi’ra arches into and against him, her legs trembling as he makes her come once, twice, and a third time.

She forces her legs not to tremble when she finally walks out, grateful that the material of her dress doesn’t rumple. Dryden descends on her at once. “What did he want?” he asks nervously.

Qi’ra glances back at Maul, his cum trickling down her thighs. “He just wanted to give me some advice.”


End file.
